The Life We Almost Had

by Amelia Henley

  I don’t.

  I’m at a loss to know how to carry on. I look to Adam for inspiration and I remember one of the first things he had said to me: ‘Start at the beginning, Anna.’

  And so I do.

  Seven years ago. I pause. Recalling our first week. That visit to the author’s house. Me touching the typewriter. Adam asking if I’d ever thought of crafting my own book.

  ‘Everyone has something to say – it’s a matter of figuring out what that something is. What would you write, if you could?’ Adam had asked.

  ‘A love story,’ I had told him. ‘One with a happy end.’

  ‘A clichéd end.’

  ‘Happy,’ I had insisted, because ultimately isn’t that what we all want? It’s what I want.

  Speedily, the nib of my pen scratches over the paper. I let it all pour out.

  This is not a typical love story, but it’s our love story.

  Mine and Adam’s.

  And despite that day, despite everything, I’m not yet ready for it to end. I glance at my husband.

  Is he?

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Oliver

  Oliver has spent the night pacing the long corridors of the Institute. Checking his phone. Second-guessing what Anna’s decision might be. She stands before him now, exhaustion etched onto her face. As much as he burns to know her decision right away, she deserves to be treated with the consideration he had always shown Clem. With the care that Adam would give her if he were able to.

  ‘Let’s get a coffee.’

  Noticing Anna struggling to keep up with his long strides, he slows. He glances at her. At Nell. Wishing one of them would say something.

  It isn’t until she has her hands wrapped around a mug that she eventually speaks.

  ‘I’ve been going through it all. The risks. The danger of trying something that has never been attempted before. How my mum would feel if anything happened to me.’

  ‘Nothing could happen to—’

  ‘Please.’ Anna looks at him. Her eyes are bloodshot. ‘Let me finish.’

  Oliver gulps his coffee, washing down the words he wants to say.

  ‘My dad… He died suddenly. Unexpectedly. It’s a great regret of Mum’s that she wasn’t there when he went. It’s a great regret of hers that in the period before he died, they were both so busy – he was a head teacher, you know – and they didn’t talk as often as they should have.’ Anna pushes the hair back from her face. ‘They talked. They were happy. It’s just… Mum said she had always thought that there would be lots of time when he retired for meaningful conversations. I think… I know she’d understand why I want to do this, and if it goes wrong… I’ve written her a letter explaining… There are things that have happened between me and Adam. Things I need to know.’

  ‘I don’t quite understand,’ Oliver says.

  ‘I’m going to say yes to the trial. But I’ll be the one connected to Adam, not you.’

  Oliver’s stomach drops. ‘I’m afraid I can’t allow that.’ It isn’t only because this is his project. His dream. He now understands why Anna wrote to her mother and she is right to be cautious. There could be… consequences.

  ‘Then I’m afraid I won’t allow you to try,’ Anna says.

  ‘Anna, I’m as certain as I can be that this is safe, but the bottom line is the new fMRI scanner is more powerful, it has—’

  ‘Stronger magnets, faster readouts. It’s new tech. I understand all of this.’

  ‘Then you should also understand that there could be some side-effects and I can’t—’

  ‘Can’t or won’t? Look, if anyone is going to able to feel what Adam is feeling, it should be me. I’m willing to take the risk. What if this is the only chance there is…’ Anna’s voice cracks.

  Oliver whips off his glasses and rubs his eyes. He can’t agree to this.

  ‘What if, for now…’ he is thinking on his feet, ‘we try the trial without another person taking part. Just Adam. Without the VR goggles we’d still receive images from the scanner but they wouldn’t include the other senses of course. We can all view on screen at the same time—’

  ‘No,’ Anna cut in. ‘I won’t agree to that. We use the goggles and I’m the one with Adam. All or nothing.’

  ‘Go big or go home,’ Nell says.

  ‘It’s too…’ Things are sliding out of Oliver’s control.

  ‘Please, Oliver. Let me try.’

  ‘Nell?’ Oliver pleads. ‘You must see that—’

  ‘I’d want to be the one if it were me and Chris.’

  ‘But…’ Oliver has logic. Reasons. But are they excuses? What if it were Clem in Adam’s position? He would want to be the other person taking part. He clasps his hands behind his head and stares at the ceiling in despair. He could wait for another suitable candidate. He should wait.

  ‘Anna, I’m sorry—’

  ‘Don’t say sorry. Say yes. I… I messed up. With Adam. Hasn’t there ever been anything you wish you could say sorry for in your relationship with Clem?’

  There were so many things to apologize for; Oliver wouldn’t know where to start. He should have noticed Clem was ill. He should have made her see a doctor. He should have been able to save her.

  ‘I think… there are always things we want to say sorry for.’

  ‘And if you got that chance now? Wouldn’t you take it?’

  ‘This trial is for us to see what is in Adam’s consciousness. Not what is in yours. It is unlikely you will be able to communicate with him.’

  ‘But there’s a chance that I could?’

  Oliver shrugs helplessly. ‘We just don’t know.’

  ‘But we could find out.’ Anna touches his arm. ‘We could. I’m not saying you can’t experience whatever it is that may or may not happen – this is your life’s work – but the first time, I want that, I need that to be me.’

  Time is slow. Eventually Oliver says, ‘I can’t say yes or no.’ He momentarily places his hand over Anna’s. ‘Until you’ve met somebody.’ He stands. ‘Come with me.’

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Anna

  Eva is the clinic’s psychologist. Oliver will decide whether I can take part in the trial after she has assessed me. I am sitting opposite her, trying to portray a calmness I do not feel.

  At school I loathed exams. The pressure of knowing that the answers I gave over the next sixty minutes could potentially dictate my future. My palms would sweat, my temples throb. This is the way I feel now, but this time there is far more riding on a test than university offers and job prospects. I am not just doing this for me, but for Adam.

  For us.

  Oliver has taken Nell for another coffee, promising he will return the second Eva tells him she has finished. It’s all moving so quickly I don’t feel ready. I can’t stop fidgeting, agitated that I’ve already been away from Adam today for longer than I’d like.

  ‘Are you comfortable, Anna?’ Eva asks.

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ I’m not. Mentally I have never been less comfortable than I am right now.

  ‘Don’t look so scared.’ With a French-manicured fingernail, she tucks her sleek dark hair behind her ears. In comparison my own nails are bitten to the quick and I tuck my hands under my thighs so she doesn’t judge me.

  ‘I won’t bite,’ she says.

  I try to relax. The room is cosy. The white walls and shiny floors of the rest of the Institute haven’t been carried through here. Instead, the paint is the colour of butter. Bright orange pots spilling with tall leafy green plants flank the door. The turquoise chair I am sitting on is soft and deep. On the oak coffee table in front of me is a jug of water and two glasses, along with a box of tissues.

  Eva scrawls into a notebook.

  ‘Will this take long?’ I try to keep my impatience from my voice but I’m tired and tetchy. ‘It’s just… my husband…’

  ‘Of course. I’ll make it as quick as I can and then hopefully we can move Adam here. We have the best equipment on
the island.’ Again the pen scratches across paper. Again I try to suppress a scream, not sure whether this is part of the test. Whether she has begun assessing me. I force myself to be still. Quiet.

  ‘I’m going to ask you a series of questions. Try not to think too long about the answers. There is no right or wrong,’ she smiles. ‘Ready?’

  I nod.

  ‘Are you worried or anxious about anything right now?’

  The desire to tell her to sod off, to get up and stalk out of the room, slamming the door behind me, is immense.

  ‘Sorry, Anna,’ she says before I can react, politely or otherwise. ‘This is a standard questionnaire. Some of the questions might seem inappropriate but I have to ask them. Of course you’re worried. I don’t mean to sound insensitive but it’s important I run through these before—’

  ‘It’s fine.’ I just want this over with. ‘Yes, I feel worried.’

  ‘A little, often or constantly?’

  ‘Constantly.’

  We continue in the same vein. I am asked whether I am tense. Whether I have trouble sleeping. If I’m scared I’ll lose control. Whether I have chest pain. Suicidal thoughts. The list goes on and on. Sometimes I lie, trying to make myself seem more together than I am, but generally I’m honest.

  Yes, my anxiety is out of control.

  Yes, I feel guilt.

  Shame.

  Fear.

  ‘You’re doing really well, Anna,’ Eva says encouragingly. ‘That’s the basics out of the way. Now, I don’t want to sound like a cliché, but was your childhood a happy one?’

  ‘Is this relevant to Adam?’

  ‘It’s relevant to you. Whether the trial is a success or not, we need to ensure that you’re able to cope with whatever happens.’

  ‘I’ve coped so far.’

  ‘It’s procedure. I’m aware some of it feels patronizing and I apologize.’

  ‘It’s not your fault, it’s… I’m tired. I just want to get back to Adam. My childhood was fine.’ It’s my adulthood that has turned into a living nightmare.

  ‘And your parents were together during your formative years?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Happy?’

  ‘Definitely.’ It’s my most truthful answer so far.

  ‘Are there any events from your childhood you think I should know?’

  ‘Umm, no.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘What’s your definition of childhood?’

  ‘Tell me what’s on your mind and I can decide whether it’s relevant.’

  ‘My… my dad died when I was twenty. Not exactly a child.’ I had felt like one though.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘He… he had a heart attack. It was very unexpected. The hospital said he was stable. They were hopeful but… he died later that night. On his own.’ I shift in my chair, my heart racing. She picks up on my increased agitation.

  ‘We’ll get you back to Adam soon, don’t worry, and the hospital has Nell’s number, don’t they?’

  ‘Yes.’ It doesn’t make me feel any better. I should be with him, not here dredging up my painful past.

  ‘How did you cope with your dad’s passing?’

  ‘It was hard. I had to be strong, for Mum. It was…’ My voice wobbles. ‘It was such a shock. He’d always been there, you know? Always able to sort anything out. If my car broke down, if I was short of money, if I just needed a hug and some reassurance I was lovable. He was there. And then he wasn’t.’

  My tears are hot, I gulp them back down. I’ll be strong for Adam the way I am strong for my mum. Eva studies me for a moment, waiting for me to say something else, but I don’t.

  ‘Let’s talk about your relationship with Adam.’

  ‘What about us?’ I pick up my water, feeling anxious.

  ‘Did you meet him after your dad died or before?’

  ‘After. I’d just come out of a broken engagement.’

  ‘I see.’ Eva scribbles down a note.

  ‘My ex-fiancé and I weren’t right for each other. It was good we found out before we got married. He put me down a lot. He wasn’t a kind man.’

  ‘Is it fair to say your self-esteem was low when you met Adam?’

  ‘I guess so.’ I remember running into the sea, trying to hide my body.

  ‘How would you describe your relationship?’

  ‘Amazing.’ Did that sound fake?

  She holds the silence until I break it. ‘We have our ups and downs, of course, all couples do, don’t they?’ Still, she doesn’t speak. What does she want me to say? ‘We’d been having some problems.’ I look at my hands.

  ‘Tell me about them.’

  ‘We’d been trying for a baby for a long time. It created a bit of a wedge between us.’ I pick at my nails. ‘A lot of a wedge.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘He’s never said anything but I think he blamed me.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘We don’t talk about it. We don’t talk about much anymore.’

  ‘Why not?’

  I take another drink. Wishing I could wash away the image of us lying on the beach when we met. My leg hooked over his. His thumb stroking mine. The way we opened up to each other.

  ‘I think… I think I love him so much it was unbearable to think I’d let him down. I didn’t want to hear him say it.’

  ‘But you don’t know how he feels?’

  ‘No. But he doesn’t have to say; I can tell by the way he forgets to do things I ask him to or accuses me of nagging if I ask when he’s going to do some DIY. I’m trying to create a home and he doesn’t seem to care. The books are stacked on the floor when he could easily build the bookcase and…’ I stop. Suddenly feeling a sickness deep in the pit of my stomach. Adam could be dying and I’m complaining he doesn’t do enough around the house.

  Eva gives me a moment to compose myself. ‘Does Adam ever indicate that he wants to talk?’

  I shake my head.

  ‘Why do you think that is, Anna?’

  Because he doesn’t care.

  Because he doesn’t care enough.

  ‘Because…’ I think of Adam treading water while I clung to the yacht. ‘Jump,’ he had shouted, panic in his voice. ‘I won’t let you fall. I promise I’ll catch you.’

  ‘Because he’s scared.’

  He’s scared. I’m scared. I cover my face with my hands and Eva allows me the indulgence of tears. Eventually I raise my face to hers.

  ‘We’ve so much to say,’ I whisper. ‘So much we should have said. We didn’t talk. We didn’t listen. If there’s the slightest chance I can put that right… Please. Let me.’

  She puts down her pen. ‘I’ll go and fetch Oliver.’

  Chapter Forty

  Oliver

  Anna’s psychological assessment has gone well. Eva is willing to sign off on the paperwork on the condition she gets to chat to Anna every day.

  ‘Sofia has taken Anna to the medical wing for a physical,’ he tells Nell, who is nursing cold coffee. ‘There are certain conditions we need to be mindful of when using magnets, which would rule Anna out of participating in the study. She shouldn’t be too much longer.’

  ‘What sort of things?’ Nell asks.

  ‘Pacemakers, any metal in the body; plates, screws that sort of thing. If Anna were pregnant.’

  Nell sighs. ‘She was. Anna had a miscarriage after the accident.’

  It is both shock and sadness that steal Oliver’s words. Anna has been through so much more than he had imagined.

  ‘They had been trying for a baby for five years,’ Nell says.

  ‘Do you think she’s ready for this?’ Oliver respects Eva’s opinion but Nell knows Anna better than anyone. ‘If you don’t think she’s up to it, I’ll call it off now.’ Science is everything to Oliver but even he knows that people… people have to come first.

  ‘I think she needs this,’ Nell says.

  They sit in silence until Sofia brings Anna back to them. I
mmediately, Nell rushes towards her friend, wrapping her arms around her. Murmuring in her ear. Oliver glances at Sofia. She gives a slight nod.

  ‘Anna.’ Briefly he touches her shoulder.

  ‘I want to see Adam.’ Wearily she turns around.

  ‘Of course. Right away. All the tests are fine so if you want to, we can bring him back here?’

  ‘Today?’

  ‘Only if you’re comfortable with that. You could sleep here tonight. Both of you?’

  ‘I’ve got an early flight,’ Nell says. ‘I don’t want to disturb Anna by getting up at a ridiculous hour.’

  ‘I can arrange for a car to pick you up from the apartment first thing and drop you at the airport,’ Oliver says.

  ‘I think that would be best. Is that okay with you, Anna?’

  ‘I don’t… I guess… Would we begin the trial tonight?’

  Oliver hesitates. His head and his heart battling it out. His heart wins. ‘Not today, we need time to settle Adam in.’ They don’t, but Anna looks fit to drop. He knows she’ll push herself through it but he really wants her to get some rest. ‘In the morning though.’

  On the way to the hospital, Anna dozes, her head resting against Nell’s shoulder. Nell keeps a palm pressed to Anna’s cheek so her head doesn’t loll when the car turns a corner. The Institute’s private ambulance follows them. Oliver feels his excitement beginning to brew.

  But that’s until they reach the hospital.

  Until they walk into Adam’s room.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Anna

  My glare is steely. ‘Dr Acevedo, what do you mean I can’t take Adam? He’s my husband!’

  ‘And my patient.’ Dr Acevedo doesn’t look away. ‘I don’t think it’s in Adam’s best interests to be moved.’

  ‘You think he’s going to wake up imminently then?’

  ‘In my experience Adam’s chance of recovering is—’

  ‘3 per cent, yes, I know. It shouldn’t matter if I move him then, should it?’

  ‘Anna—’

  ‘Mrs Curtis.’

  ‘Mrs Curtis. I’m familiar with Oliver—’

  ‘Dr Chapman,’ I correct. I’m behaving terribly but I can’t help it.